


(if you cut me i suppose i would bleed) the colours of the evening stars

by brightwrites



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - No Squip, Apologies, Bullying, Christine is a saint, Crushes, Dancing, Fake Studying, First Kiss, Flowers, Fluffy Ending, Happy Ending, Holding Hands, Homophobic Language, Hopeful Ending, Language of Flowers, Late Night Conversations, M/M, MICHAEL ISNT A SOFT UWU BOY, Moonlight, Nerd Christine, POV Jeremy, Pining, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Punk Jeremy, Stars, Swearing, Symbolism, Tattoos, Theyre gay, boyf riends - Freeform, flower symbolism, heavily aesthetic based, lots of stars bc i love them, pastel and punk au, pastel michael, poor jeremy has a crush and he doesnt know what to do, rich is an asshat but hes working on it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 00:04:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14147541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightwrites/pseuds/brightwrites
Summary: Jeremy exhaled, his breath going misty in the cold February air and then gently dissolving in the harsh orange glow of the streetlights. He gazed across the street at the flower shop, still open for another half hour, despite it being eleven at night. Even the tattoo parlour behind Jeremy had closed first.





	(if you cut me i suppose i would bleed) the colours of the evening stars

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "The Technicolor Phase" by Owl City.

Jeremy exhaled, his breath going misty in the cold February air and then gently dissolving in the harsh orange glow of the streetlights. He gazed across the street at the flower shop, still open for another half hour, despite it being eleven at night. Even the tattoo parlour behind Jeremy had closed first.

Thank God for that, though. If the florist’s had closed before Jeremy got out of work, he wouldn’t have been able to grab a bouquet for Christine before tomorrow.

He’d long since gotten over the little crush he’d nursed on his best friend for a while. He and Christine had even dated for about a week and a half, but found that their dynamic worked far better as friends.

Still, it was nice to get each other flowers every year for Valentine’s day, since it was clear that no one else was going to get them any. They were the “losers” of the school after all, the punk and the nerd.

So Jeremy crossed the street, not bothering to look both ways, since there had been nothing but an unearthly quietness on the street for at least ten minutes.

He pushed open the glass door of the flower shop, and the boy at the counter jumped slightly at the tinkling of the bell above the door. Jeremy didn’t give him a second glance, looking around the small shop for a nice bouquet to get Christine.

The shop was almost terrifyingly colourful, eye-burning shades of red, pink, yellow, orange, and others bursting out at him from every angle. There was a reason he preferred the dark colours of the “punk” aesthetic.

Thankfully, soon Jeremy spotted some flowers in the corner that seemed very Christine-esque. Going over and glancing at the label, he found that they were chrysanthemums and oak-leaved geraniums. He picked them up, looking around to see if anything else caught his eye, before carrying the bouquet over to the counter, not meeting the eye of the boy working there.

“Oak-leaved geraniums and chrysanthemums, huh?” The boy asked, and Jeremy cringed internally. He was way too exhausted right now to make conversation, but he wasn’t going to be  _ that  _ rude customer, so he opened his mouth with a tiny  _ um. _

But then he glanced up. And met eyes with what was probably one of the cutest human specimens on Earth. The boy was a little shorter than Jeremy, with tanned skin, and wore black, horn-rimmed glasses that framed his warm brown eyes. He wore the bottle-green apron that was presumably required of the florist’s, but it contrasted nicely with the soft pink sweater he wore. He, like Jeremy, had his ears pierced, but with only one piercing in each ear, and instead of black rings and studs like Jeremy, he had little roses sprouting out of each piercing.

Something about him seemed vaguely familiar.

The boy cleared his throat awkwardly, clearly still awaiting a response, and Jeremy was about to die.

“Uh,” he said, glancing down at the flowers he was buying. “Yeah, I’m-I’m getting them for tomorrow.” He tried to subtly squint at the boy’s name tag, seeing that his name was Michael. Oh. Now Jeremy remembered, he was one of those “popular kids who never hurt anyone but didn’t stop their buddies from tormenting you either” people from school. Nice.

“Oh,” Michael adjusted his glasses, before looking back at Jeremy. “Um, do you know what they mean?”

Jeremy shook his head, feeling stupid, despite the fact that flower symbolism wasn’t necessarily something most people were aware of.

“Well, I just feel like you should know that these, ah, might not represent what you want to mean.” Michael picked up the bouquet and scanned it, not meeting Jeremy’s eyes. “Oak-leaved geraniums symbolize “true friendship”, and chrysanthemums mean “You’re a great friend”, so. I wouldn’t recommend getting them for Valentine’s Day.”

Jeremy exhaled a relieved breath, thankful that the combination of flowers didn’t mean something like “fuck you” in flower language. “Don’t worry,” he assured Michael nervously, pulling out his wallet. “I’m getting them for a friend.”

“Ah.” Michael nodded awkwardly, and glanced at the price tag. “That’ll be ten dollars, please.”

And that was the end of the conversation.

Jeremy payed Michael, before picked up the pink and orange bouquet, and hurrying out the door into the icy February wind.

* * *

 

Jeremy felt a small but strong force shove him into a locker. He closed his eyes and sighed, already knowing who it was.

“Hey Nose-Ring, I thought you were a fairy.”

Jeremy fought back the urge to smash his head into the locker. Not like Rich hasn't already done that for him. “First of all, I'm not gay,” He was bi, but he doubted Rich even understood what that meant.

“Yeah-fucking-right, Mr. Eyeliner,”

“Secondly, Christine and I are just friends.” Jeremy pushed himself off the cold metal of the locker he was pressed against.

“Hah!” Rich barked into his ear, causing Jeremy to flinch away. “You don't see me giving my friends fucking marigolds!” The chrysanthemums Jeremy had given Christine did kind of look like marigold, which was kind of surprising.  _ Props to Rich for having unforeseen knowledge of flowers, I guess? _

Jeremy was about to retort something that was probably going to get him acquainted with Rich’s fist at a high speed, when he heard a familiar voice calling from down the hallway.

“Maybe you should rethink what kind of friendships you have, then, shouldn't you?”

Michael, from the flower shop, strode down the hall towards them. He wore a loose, light grey sweater and pale blue jeans. His backpack was a soft yellow, with a ton of badges pinned to it, though Jeremy couldn't really make out what they were. He wore a silver chain necklace, with what looked like little baby’s breath flowers dangling from it, which Jeremy found weirdly… adorable?

“Yeah, well, not all of us fucking live above flower shops,” Rich snapped, but with no real malice. He high-fived Michael, before slapping him a little too hard on the back. Michal winced, coughing slightly.

“Whatever, I don't think our friends care about flowers that much anyway. C'mon, dude, class is gonna start soon, and Jake’s looking for you.”

And so, the two were off, without a second thought to Jeremy, who watched their interaction, confused. Until Michael turned his head, just slightly, enough to catch Jeremy’s eye for a split second, an unreadable expression on his face.

Jeremy slowly bent over to pick up his backpack, still slightly bemused. Michael actually just rescued him from Rich. Why? They had only barely spoken to each other once.

Jeremy just ran a hand through his dark curls, and continued on. Whatever. There was no use dwelling on it. Though, he would have an interesting story to tell Christine later.

* * *

 

There was a weird trend going on for the next few weeks. Whenever Rich would corner Jeremy or Christine to try and torment them, Michael would usually pop up out of nowhere, to tell him that some person or another was looking for him, or just to be like “Dude, c'mon, there's a sale on for slushies in 7/11!”

And every time Michael would crop up like that, without fail, he would lock his warm brown eyes with Jeremy’s sharp blue for half a second, and a moment of what Jeremy thought was solidarity would pass between them.

Then, came the Easter party.

It was an open invitation, but Jeremy wasn't planning on going. Parties were definitely not at the top of the priorities list when it came to Jeremy's plans for the future.

However, those plans didn't account for Christine, who actually did want to go.

“Jake asked if I'd be there! He was so sweet, you should have heard him!” Christine sat up straight, trying (and failing) to meet Jeremy eye-to-eye. “He saw my performance as Juliet!”

“But I don't see why  _ I _ have to be there,” Jeremy grumbled into his lunch, fidgeting with a skull ring on his middle finger. He already knew the answer, though.

“You don't think I'd go alone, do you?” Christine adjusted her little square glasses. “As my best friend, you are obligated to be there, on the first maybe-date.”

“I don't think that best friends usually play the third wheels on dates?” Jeremy smiled anyway. Damn her for pulling out the best friend card.

“But I'd just feel  _ better _ if you were there,” and Christine gave him a giant, earnest smile, pink braces and all, and the softer side of Jeremy melted. He really could never say no to that smile.

He gave a deep, full-lung sigh. “Fine,” Christine, tiny as she was, grabbed him into a surprisingly powerful hug. “But—” he pulled back slightly— “I'm only going to make sure that Jake doesn't  _ try anything _ on the first date.”

Christine just laughed and pulled him a little closer for that, even if they both knew that Jeremy couldn't protect Christine any better than she could herself.

* * *

 

The very air of the house seemed to pound along to the beat of the music. The bodies around him stomped and flung their arms around to the rhythm. People were spilling their drinks left, right, and centre, so everywhere stank of sour, cheap beer. Jeremy’s ears were ringing with how loud the speakers were.

Christine was on a couch, chatting and laughing with Jake. She seemed to be having a good time, and Jake couldn't exactly try anything creepy in the middle of a crowded party, so Jeremy made up his mind to escape the writhing cage of sweaty teenagers.

He broke out of the thrumming house and into the crisp air of dusk. There wasn't many people outside, and Jeremy wandered as far away from them as possible. He sat under a tree, leaning against the wood and inhaling sharp, deep breaths to stop his head spinning.

“Hey,”

Jeremy startled. He wasn't expecting anyone to try to talk to him, and especially not if that voice belonged to who he thought it belonged to. “Uh, hi?”

Jeremy looked up to see Flower-Shop-Michael, in the flesh, sitting down near him. “I'm not a big fan of parties,” Michael said casually. “I'm guessing you're the same?”

Jeremy nodded. He fiddled with one of his earrings nervously, unsure of what to do next.  _ Say something, stupid! _

But he couldn't get any words unstuck from his throat, so the two boys sat in a slightly tense silence for a moment.

“I, um, I guess you're probably wondering why I keep pulling Rich away when he tries to bully you?” Michael asked awkwardly, running a hand through his dark hair. He was wearing a flower ring, of little pink and purple viscaria flowers.

Jeremy shrugged. “Thanks, I guess,” he mumbled, before glancing up to meet Michael's pretty, coffee-coloured eyes. “Why  _ do _ you do that, though?”

Michael broke his gaze away, fidgeting with his ring. “I felt bad,” he admitted. “I… I always knew about the way Rich would bully people, mostly you and Christine, but I guess I could always just ignore it, pretend he wasn't. It was easier that way.”

Jeremy listened raptly. His hands stopped toying with his piercings, and for once lay still and relaxed in his lap. Michael continued.

“But, like, on Valentine’s Day, I saw Rich pushing you up against that locker, and for the first time, I actually had to acknowledge what he was doing, ‘cause my brain was like, ‘oh, hey, it's that guy who bought the friendship-flowers last night!  _ And he's being bullied by Rich!’” _ Michael was still rambling, tugging at the hem of his lavender-coloured sweater. “And I felt bad. And it was pretty easy, y'know? To just make up some excuse whenever I saw him bullying you or Christine.” Michael cleared his throat uncomfortably. “So, yeah, that's why I keep pulling him off you.”

Jeremy considered being angry. He never really could, but he imagined the option of just throwing all that back into Michael’s face and being like,  _ Well, you turned enough of a blind eye before! _

But Michael really had made up for all that time of just looking the other way. He had gone out of his way to rescue both Jeremy and Christine from Rich’s torment. And he seemed to be trying to apologize for ignoring them all those years. And he was hella cute.

So Jeremy broke the silence that had stretched on for maybe forever. “Are… are those Apocalypse of the Damned badges on your backpack?”

Michael's smile looked close to splitting his face. “Totally!” he brushed his fingers along the thigh of his flower-patterned jeans. “Do - do you play it?”

The conversation went incredibly smoothly from there. They bonded over Apocalypse of the Damned and other video games, their discussions ebbing and flowing naturally. The sun drifted fully under the horizon, and oranges and pinks splashed across the sky, reflecting beautifully in Michael’s eyes, and the haze of twilight gave his tanned skin an ethereal glow.

The stars were almost fully out, the moon brightening the sky, when the music crashing from the house near them quietened down to a slow-dance type music. Michael grinned, running a hand through his hair.

“Hey, um, do you want to dance?” Michael offered, climbing to his feet. Jeremy hoped that the flush of his skin wasn't visible in the moonlight.

Jeremy hadn't danced properly in ages, but he honestly wanted to dance with Michael. “S-sure,” he stammered, jumping up a little less smoothly than Michael.

Michael grabbed Jeremy’s hand. Michael’s hands were warm, and slightly calloused. Jeremy enjoyed the sensation a little too much.

Unfortunately, Jeremy seemed to have forgotten the fact that he had two left feet when it came to dancing. Michael was good at it, even if his dance moves were a little quirky and unique to him. But instead of just awkwardly fumbling through it, the two laughed whenever they tripped over each other. They danced clumsily, unprofessionally, like the dumb boys they were.

So the two teenagers danced under the stars, giggling madly, twirling and hopping and stumbling like the amateurs they were. They danced with only the silver glow of the moon to light their way, admiring each other as the last touches of purple and gold disappeared from the horizon.

They danced like two boys who were, very slowly, falling in love.

* * *

 

Christine, as it turned out, ended up kissing Jake that night. And when she and Jeremy met up at the mall on Saturday, she informed him that she and Jake were dating.

Then, suddenly, Jeremy’s entire school life was flipped upside down. He now sat at the popular kids’ table, the same table that Rich and Jake and  _ Michael _ sat at. This was because Christine, the absolute angel that she was, had very forcefully told Jake that if she was sitting at his table, so was Jeremy.

And, if he was being honest, the people that he sat with were growing on him. Despite being a little distant from them at first, the popular kids, also including Chloe Valentine, Brooke Lohst, and Jenna Rolan, seemed to come to the conclusion that Jeremy wasn't the dark edgelord that they were expecting him to be. And Jeremy realized that the popular kids weren't actually as shallow as he thought that they were.

Rich had stopped bullying him and Christine altogether. He and Jeremy stayed as far away from each other as possible, but whenever the two were forced together to make awkward conversation, Rich held a vaguely guilty expression on his face.

Jeremy wondered if Rich felt bad about the way he had treated him and Christine. He got his answer about a month and a half after he and Christine joined the popular kids’ table, when Rich cornered him near the end of one lunch period.

“Look, dude,” Rich scratched the back of his neck, not meeting Jeremy's eyes. “I'm not great with words, but, like, I'm just going to apologize for the way I treated you. I'm fucking sorry, okay? I was working through a lot of shit, I still am, but I'm not, like, going to try to excuse it. I was really shitty to you.”

Jeremy didn't have a clue what to say, so he just shrugged. “Um, okay?”

Rich finally met his eyes, and nodded quickly and awkwardly, before hurrying off somewhere else, with a rushed “Bye!” over his shoulder.

Jeremy knew he shouldn't forgive Rich so quickly, and he wasn't going to. Rich really had been awful to him over the years, made him absolutely dread going to school some days, and one apology wasn't going to fix that.

But if Rich really did try to make it up to him and Christine, well, maybe Jeremy could start the journey to forgiving him eventually.

Jeremy and Michael only grew closer. The two of them were seen together often, chattering about video games or comics or the like. Jeremy felt himself growing really comfortable in Michael’s presence, a kind of comfort that he only felt around Christine. At some point, Michael had become one of his best friends.

But there was another feeling there, too. A kind of feeling that he hadn't come across for a while around Christine, but whenever he was around Michael it seemed to grow stronger, even more prominent than it had been with Christine.

It came to him, as he was lying on Christine’s bed one Friday afternoon, while he and Christine were supposed to be studying.

* * *

 

It was a bright day, and rays of sunlight spilled through the window near Christine’s bed, illuminating her shelf of Shakespearean plays like a spotlight, and Jeremy was face-down on the bed itself, groaning at the thought of chemistry. Christine, who wasn't great at focusing either, looked up from where she was absentmindedly doodling on her maths textbook.

“Exams are coming up,” she reminded him, taking off her glasses and wiping them with the hem of her neatly pleated skirt.

“I  _ know,” _ Jeremy grumbled, sitting up. He still didn't want to study, but he wanted to reassure Christine that he was doing  _ something, _ so he grabbed the nearest book to him. That book turned out to be a… book on flowers.

Jeremy flipped it open to a random page, lying back onto Christine’s bed. It landed on scarlet fuchsias.  _ Michael would like these. _ Usually, Michael preferred softer colours, but bright red seemed to be the exception. Well, Michael looked just as attractive in bright red as he did in pastel blues and yellows.

He learned that after Michael came to school in a red hoodie, starkly contrasting with his pale jeans and backpack. Jeremy smiled at the memory, of Michael looking almost nervous as everyone was rightfully surprised at the sudden, temporary change in style.  _ Michael really is stupidly fucking adorable. _

Jeremy shot back up into a sitting position, startling Christine slightly. She glanced up from drawing a dragon around the explanation for simultaneous quadratic equations. “What is it?” she asked, looking grateful for the excuse to close her textbook.

Jeremy blinked heavily, running a hand through his curls. “Do…” he hesitated. “Do I have a crush on Michael?”

Christine raised one eyebrow. “I was wondering when you'd figure that out,” she said, setting down her ballpoint pen. “I've been suspecting ever since you told me about how you two frolicked under the stars.”

Jeremy felt his pale cheeks flush. “We didn't  _ frolick!” _ he protested. “We just… danced.”

Christine shrugged, taking off her glasses to squint at his face. “Same difference,” she responded. “Point is, you're transparent, Jeremy, and I'm surprised it took you this long to figure yourself out.”

“Do you…” Jeremy fidgeted nervously with one of the black rings in his ear. “Do you think he likes me back?”

“Well,” Christine started, brushing a strand of short, dark hair behind her ear. “Michael's a whole lot harder to read. But I think you should go for it.”

Jeremy sank back down onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. Now the question was just  _ how _ to go about asking Michael out.

* * *

 

“Are you sure about this?” Jeremy asked nervously. He was probably more worried about this than Michael, and Michael was the one getting a tattoo.

“Totally,” Michael said confidently, strolling easily into the tattoo parlour that Jeremy worked at. But Jeremy knew him by this point, and he could see the tension in Michael's shoulders, signalling that he was at least a little anxious about what was to come.

Jeremy informed the guy at the desk what he was doing at his place of work outside of his shift hours, Michael paid the price of getting a tattoo, and they both were let in.

“Okay, so,” Jeremy hastily pulled out the stencil for the kind of flowers that Michael wanted tattooed on his collarbone. Daffodils. “Just go ahead and sit in that chair over there, yeah?”

“Yup,” Michael responded, as Jeremy began prepping the station for tattooing Michael.

“Remind me again why you want daffodils?” Jeremy asked. “I mean, don't get me wrong, they're cute, but not exactly the prettiest of flowers.”

Michael laughed a little. The very sound brightened the entire tattoo parlour. “I mean, daffodils have always been my favourite flower,” Michael said, sitting up a little straighter. “Plus, they represent sunshine, which I think is a really positive symbol to carry with me for the rest of my life.”

Very fitting, Jeremy reflected as he put on plastic gloves so as not to infect Michael's future tattoo, that the person that seemed to be overflowing with sunlight, should get a tattoo that represents sunshine.

“Okay,” Jeremy started, picking up the tattoo needle, “Now stay still, bitch.”

Michael laughed again, but settled back into the chair.

It was fairly nerve wracking, to have to get super close up to your crush’s collarbone to do a tattoo, while praying to every god out there that you don't somehow say something weird and mess up this very important moment, or stumble with the tattoo needle and leave your crush with a gross tattoo for the rest of their life.

It took a long while and a some pain for Michael, but after a couple of hours, Michael was left with three, fully coloured, daffodils on his collarbone.

“Done!” Jeremy proclaimed, standing up straight, and cracking his neck. “I'm going to have to wrap it now, and you'll have to change the bandages a couple of times a day for a few weeks, but after that I think you'll be fine.”

Michael whooped, but it quickly turned to a wince as Jeremy began wrapping up his tattoo.

The two of them were leaving the parlour when Michael turned to Jeremy. “Hey dude,” he said. “Do you have any tattoos?”

Jeremy shrugged. “No, actually,” he admitted. “I guess I'm too worried about regretting it later in life.”

Michael smiled and adjusted his glasses. “I guess I should have thought about that before getting a tattoo, huh,” he said, but Jeremy could tell by the light in his eyes that he wasn't going to regret this tattoo.

* * *

 

Christine and Jake broke up just after exam season, and after Jeremy finished consoling her with ice cream and watching  _ Les Misèrables, _ he wondered if they would be kicked off the popular kids’ table and he wouldn't be able to talk to Michael at lunchtimes anymore.

As it turned out, Jeremy and Christine had formed solid enough bonds with the other people at the table that, by some unspoken agreement, they stayed.

* * *

 

It was two weeks into the summer holidays, and Jeremy still hadn't worked up the courage to ask Michael out.

The two of them had a thing, where, after Jeremy got out of work at the tattoo parlour,  he would go over to Michael’s parents’ flower shop, to talk to him for the last half hour until Michael got out of work, too. Sometimes Jeremy would grab chips at the fish and chips nearby to share with him. It wasn't like anyone would actually buy flowers at that hour.

One of these very nights, the sky was beautifully clear. Michael had asked Jeremy, “Hey, neither of us are tired, wanna go hang out at the playground down the block?” So off they both went, chatting idly and admiring the universe of stars that was being revealed to them that night.

As they reached the empty playground, lit only by starlight, Michael began humming a familiar tune. Jeremy recognized it as the one that he and Michael had danced to at the Easter party. He had an idea.

“Hey, ah, do you wanna dance?” Jeremy asked clumsily. Michael smiled.

“Sure, dude.”

Their dancing was a little more coordinated this time, but they didn't have any music. They danced to the tweeting of the last birds awake, to the distant passing of cars, to the silence of the moon.

But they enjoyed it. They spun and stepped and tripped without a hint of self-consciousness. Their failure of a dance was only witnessed by each other, after all.

Eventually the two teenage boys slowed to a stop, flushed and giggling. Their hands remained connected, and their faces were a little too close together.

When the two of them looked back on it later, neither of them could remember who had made the first move. But suddenly, they were kissing.

It was like being grounded. Like Jeremy would float away if not for the solid, warm weight of Michael’s lips on his. His heart felt like it was filled to the brim with sunlight, like it was spilling into the rest of his chest, making it feel brighter and fuller than ever before.

The kiss didn't go much further than a chaste press of the lips, but Jeremy still felt breathless after they pulled apart. Jeremy and Michael just stared at each other for a bit, bright blue meeting soft brown.

Jeremy cleared his throat, tugging at the zip of his leather jacket. “So,” he ran a hand through his dark curls nervously. “Do - do you wanna like… go out, sometime?” he cringed at how meek and unsure he sounded.

  
But Michael just grinned, wide and reassuring and Jeremy’s chest felt like  _ bursting. _ He grabbed Jeremy’s hands hastily. “Definitely.”

**Author's Note:**

> Flower Symbolism:
> 
>  **Marigold** \- Cruelty  
>  **Baby's breath** \- Pure of heart  
>  **Viscaria** \- Will you dance with me?  
>  **Scarlet fuchsia** \- Confiding love  
>  **Daffodil** \- Michael's tattoo can mean different things depending on how you want to view it. Daffodils do symbolise sunshine, but they can also mean unrequited love or new beginnings.
> 
> Why are both my bmc fics both a) based on an Owl City song and b) full of flower symbolism??
> 
> Anyway i spent a fucking stupid amount of time writing this while i should have been doing homework
> 
> Jeremy isn't a "bad boy" and michael isn't a "soft uwu boy" bc aesthetics are different from personality
> 
> Lemme know how you view Michael's tattoo! I prefer to think of it as symbolising sunshine, but it can and will mean different things for different people!
> 
> Also note: squip or not, rich was really fucking shitty to jeremy but i always see people ignoring that?? "oh yeah it was the squip" so??? Rich still willingly obeyed it???
> 
> Feel free to roundhouse kick me in the face over on tumblr, i'm @brightwritesstuff !


End file.
